Bereaved
by TAYYABALARAIB
Summary: So, when they lost their son, Sasuke lost his mind and Hinata both him and herself.


**Bereaved**

 _ **To those who lost,**_

 **I wish I had something to offer to you guys but I don't. Even now I am trying to come up with something to say but words are failing me. I wish I could tell you that it is going to be okay but I can't. I don't know that. No one does. The only thing I can tell you is to hang in there, that it is okay to be _not-okay,_ that if you want to talk about it or anything then I am here, that even if I don't know you my prayers are with you. **

**This is for you all.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto.**

 **Excuse my errors.**

* * *

Hinata saw it happen.

...his tiny foot twisting under his weight, inertia throwing him face first into the hard ground, his chin connecting first sending ripples that cracked bones in his skull, his teeth sinking into his tongue to tear his flesh apart, a fountain of blood bursting forth upon which he choked, snatching away precious gulps of air that his punctured lung hadn't already robbed him of, legs bent in an impossible angel, a broken tooth near his chubby hand, mouth parted in a cry that never escaped, skin blue and red in several places, a picture from his disaster of a coloring book but still so precious, like his eyes, his smile ,like him, so beautiful to look at yet so devastating to think of when shattered, tattered, broken.

But he screamed.

And the world was turning again.

"Hinata!?"

She blinked.

"Breathe."

It dawned on her that it was her lungs that were burning, it was her body that was aching and it was she who was dying if not already.

"You're crying."

Her eyes found the boy again, still on the ground, wailing as he clung to his scraped knee. A small crowd had gathered around him, two adults crouched near him, a young man and woman definitely his parents, shaken, worried, loving him, kissing. Thank Kami that they weren't _them_ , that he wasn't _him_. He wasn't him.

Oh Kami, he wasn't him!

Her heart broke again and it sounded like a sob.

"Hinata, sweetie. Try to breathe or you will faint. Breathe in and out. In and out."

So, she breathed in another day without him.

.

.

.

She was going to hell.

But she had no objections whatsoever. If it were up to her, she'd send herself to the endless pit of flames too. Even that would be too kind on her. She had taken a life, crushed hearts and destroyed hopes. Failure had become a second nature to her whether it was at being a daughter, an heiress, a matriarch, wife or a mother. She was a failure. Disappointment. Father was right to berate her. Her elders' head shakes were all too justified.

So was Sasuke's hate.

Had he not been away that fateful day, Hinata knew that none of it would've occurred. He was the better parent out of the two. More skilled, more equipped and less distracted. But in their traditional setting, he was the breadwinner. He was the one tasked with risking his life to feed his family. It was her job to look after their only child, for which she had left behind her shinobi life.

And a fine job she did.

Now, she came back to their empty house, howling loud on stormy nights. The silence screamed at her, a mocking reminder of the mornings she had wished her son was a little quieter. _Go sleep now,_ she heard, _go fucking sleep all you want._ If only she could have things she needed to do, chores she needed to attend to. Wash his sheets on chilly mornings that'd swell her toes or prepare his milk in the middle of the night. If only she still could sleep amidst her walls screaming at her.

In the kitchen, Sasuke's food sat on the counter, wasting away like him in a dirty bar downtown with every bottle that burned down his throat. She hated the taste of alcohol. It tasted like funeral and the sick comfort she turned to when Sasuke refused. But how dare she seek comfort when it was because of her that her baby boy was six feet under. She would find none when she went to hell. Better get accustomed to it when she could.

She turned the lights off.

The group was gathering again tomorrow, she thought slipping under the sheets. She didn't know why she even bothered with these support groups but knew why her husband didn't. He loathed her very existence, as he should. They hadn't married for love exactly and had only found it in the form of their son. So, when they lost him, he lost his mind and she both him and herself. This was the only way he knew to cope up with all the hurt. Hate was the only emotion he embraced in its entirety. He would not breathe the same air as her, if he could help it and Hinata didn't blame him. She just hoped she didn't see Mrs. Kasumi again. Mrs. Kasumi with her moist gaze and sad smile and her daughter, little Akane, eight, whom she had lost to cancer - a tumor in her head she was born with but never knew, that grew up with her until it ruptured an artery in her brain. Her last day had been tiring, Kasumi often told, spent throwing up all over the place. But she had died peacefully in her sleep with her mother's words, "it's okay, baby. Mommy gets sick too."

Hinata wished she could've told him something loving like that. Not how bad a boy he had been. She wished she hadn't given him a timeout, that her last memory of him was not of his beautiful face soaked in tears. How he too died peacefully, in sleep. How he didn't die at all. How she still had him by her side in the bed, blowing raspberries on his tiny belly. How he was the one screaming at her and not her walls.

She was going to hell and Kami she knew she deserved it.

.

.

.

In the Hyuuga backyard, she could hear the wooden slab of a lonely swing crying with the willow tree it held on to. Last time, Hanabi had told her that she was taking it off, that it reminded the clan about the loss of their youngest member. He was loved wherever he went. Both houses had mourned his death. It was a painful memory for everyone.

It must have escaped Hanabi's mind, with all the things she was currently dealing with when her father refused to be of any help. He had taken a sudden liking to his room where he remained for the entirety of his day.

She tried to not burden anyone but people didn't make it easy to be around them. Not with their pitying gazes or their half-hearted remarks or their _it's going to be okay's_. Because it wasn't going to be okay, for a long time at least, if not forever. She wanted them to tell her that it was okay to be _not-okay._

But they told her other things. Cruel things. Not all but some. Her clan elders to be more specific. They told her: "It has been too long."

To which Hanabi replied, "She lost a child, you heartless bastard. A child. But you wouldn't know that, would you? When you never had a child of your own."

It would summon several gasps from the table, many plates of food untouched, like hers, before them. A fist would slam on the table with so much force that it would clatter all the chinaware sitting innocently there. "Hanabi. Stay in your place. We do not appreciate insolence directed towards our elders."

"And I do not appreciate you poking your nose where it doesn't belong. Why don't you just take care of your wife so that she doesn't turn to others instead of worrying about my sister and I."

"HANABI!"

"Lower your voice or I'll do it for you."

By then, many seats would be abandoned on both sides, byakugan glaring, threats exchanged, clansmen against clansmen. It looked like beginning of another war, one that would be all her fault. There was so much on her shoulders already. She didn't want more.

And that was why she would call everyone's attention with a loud "t-thank you for t-the meal", turn to the man who started it all and bow so low, as if being weighed down with all that she was made to carry. "I-I'm sorry Hajime-sama for worrying you. Please give me more time. I-I'll try to get better." And she'd be out before he could reply.

To think she would want to return to the safety of her home. It didn't feel safe. It didn't even feel like a home. Sasuke had made a motel out of it. In his defense, she had been the one who had reduced their house to a mere building of bricks and walls. There had once been _his_ pictures all over the Livingroom wall but after a particularly difficult night when her tears wouldn't stop flowing, she had taken them off, packed it in a box and tucked it in one corner of the attic. Those weren't the only things that went and eight months later, their house was barren of his very touch, an empty cradle.

So Sasuke was justified to treat it as such. He came and went and when he did decide to stay, he remained locked up in his library. At one point, Hinata had deduced that out of the two, he was dealing with it better. He still went on missions, hung out with his former team, visited Ichiraku's, smiled and talked in that smooth way of his, bathed and ate (just not her food). But the dark circles under his eyes and his quickly graying hair clashed with her assumption and she felt stupid to be fooled by his masks.

But she could be alone there. Solitude had become her safe heaven. While she could pretend to be fine before Hajime-san and her clan, there she could break over and over again. She could be _not-okay_ there.

.

.

.

Another meeting of the grief support group came and went, new pain to add to her already miserable life. Another day where she merely sat and let time pass her by. How many times had they asked if she wanted to share her story, Hinata had lost count. And even though there was so much she wanted them to know about _him_ , about how much he had filled her life with joy and happiness with the little things he did, she just couldn't. The words failed her even if they just hung at the tip of her tongue.

Thus, the group that was supposed to help grieving parents left her in more anguish. She felt like an even bigger loser. He deserved to have songs written after him after all that he had done for her. Her little savior. But she couldn't even tell them his name because it hurt. How selfish could she get?

She aimlessly strolled through the streets, not wanting to go home just yet. At the same time, she wanted not to run into people she knew. Shino would not know what to say and Kiba tried so hard to not talk about their deceased son that she'd suppress the urge wince. She couldn't look at Sakura without having a panic attack. She had been the one to try put together his broken body. Kurenai was somewhat comfortable to be around. Among them, he wasn't a taboo topic and hearing her talk about him was actually calming. Right now, however, she didn't want to be around her. She just didn't feel like talking her broken sentences that his death had brought back to life.

And although she had decided to skirt the Hyuuga compound that her feet and unconsciously taken her to, she was halted in her path by the screams that rang, the loudest being her father's.

She rushed inside, worried eyes searching the crowd of Hyuugas in her way for her sister, beginning Kami that nothing happened to either her or her father. She found them around her son's swing, Hanabi telling him something animatedly while Hiashi holding on to it for dear life. The crowd parted to make way for her when several white eyes landed on her and she simply trudged to them, confused. "Wha-what's going on?"

"Hinata. Thank goodness you're are here. Talk to him. He won't listen to me." Hiashi simply turned his face away, knowing well that if she insisted, he won't be able to refuse.

"Father. What's going on?"

"He being unreasonable, that's what's goin-."

Hinata raised her hand to silence her and walked up to him. Something about his father holding on to her son's swing made her heart ache. He had loved him, with all his heart. Losing him after Hizashi and Neji had been the final straw. He just wasn't the same. "Father?"

She saw how his grip tightened around the rope, how he squeezed his eyes to will his tears away. "They want to take his swing off. I won't allow it."

"Fathe-"

"Nobody forgets my grandson. Nobody."

She didn't know what happened in that instant but the next moment she was laughing through her tears. "Yes father. No one forgets him." Many concluded that the father-daughter duo had finally lost it and maybe they had but there was something in their broken laughter that had been lost and found. What was and wasn't there, Hinata could make a list but above all she would put _forgiveness_ and _hope_ in bold letters.

The swing stayed.

She went home that day and took out his pictures to put them exactly where they belonged on the wall. A particularly favorite picture of Sasuke and him that had once sat on his table made her sneak into his library in a bold display of happiness, something she avoided in the name of an unannounced rule. Scrolls and books littered the table and the floor she tiptoed across to prevent stepping on one. There was a smile when she placed the framed photograph on the table but it fell when her eyes registered the words stretched across one of the books Sasuke had left open.

"What are you doing?"

She forced her frozen body to turn. Sasuke stood at the door, glaring daggers at her but it was his hair that caught her attention, the bones sticking out on his face, his thin frame and it all made sense now. Once again, she had been fooled by his masks. "Y-you're p-planning on reviving him?"

He marched up to her and snatched the book out of her hands, "get out!"

But she stayed. "You want to re-revive him?"

He was still glowering but it had a touch of vulnerability. "Don't you?"

She breathed out shakily. "A-at what price, Sasuke? Your life?"

"It's not that big of a price. I'd do it in a heartbeat if you offered it. I would choose him over you any day of the week."

Her lips trembled, vision going blurry. _I'd do it too. I'd choose him over me too._

"I hate you."

 _I hate me more._

"I hate you for not letting me a farewell. You had no right to do that. No right!"

He had been in Kiri when the devastating news got to him. By the time he returned, there was a new grave to add to the ever stretching Uchiha cemetery. He had screamed at her. Yelled. This was not her decision to make alone. He was his son too and he wasn't even allowed a final glance.

"I hate you for taking him away from me!"

He was on the floor now, a crying mess while she stood, barely keeping her weight up. Strangely, her eyes were dry. She always knew he blamed her, hated her and yet the declaration had left her numb. She was lost as to what to feel.

"I don't blame you for his death but you took my final moments with him. You had no right. You had no right, none at all. How dare you take that from me! "

His screams rang louder than her crash on the floor beside him. He had his head in his hands, tears hidden away but she cupped his face and made him look up. "I'm sorry I did that to you. I'm so sorry but you wouldn't have been able to take it. It would've killed you." He still had nightmares about the massacre. Many a times, before his death, she had held him to her bosom when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, sweating but shivering. How could she have let him see the twisted body of the boy that he had loved more than life itself. There were many things Hinata had done that she wanted to undo but this was not among them.

"It didn't kill you."

Not in the literal sense of the word, no. But she died every day. She was messed up in so many ways that even death wouldn't take her. Perhaps that was what they called hell. You burned but you didn't.

"At least tell me he died happy."

"He got into a fight that day and I had scolded him for it so he wasn't happy about it. He said that he liked daddy more."

Sasuke let out a choked laugh, a sleeve pressed to his eyes. "I always was his favorite."

Only when her tears dripped down her face did she realize she had been crying. But she smiled, the kind that ached inside your chest when you finished reading your favorite book. "You were."

There was silence for a while and then there was: "He was a happy child, right? He was loved."

Hinata smiled. "He was." And so much more.

They didn't eat lunch together that day (surprisingly or unsurprisingly, Hinata didn't know which) or sleep in the same bed but despite his declarations of hate and all the hurtful things he had said, she was peaceful because silence had been broken and not hearts and she could live with just that.

The next time she went to the support group, Sasuke had been there at the door, waiting. And that she knew was surprising.

It would be a long time before she could look back at their time together and not cry but she had taken a step in that direction and after what had felt like an eternity, she could proudly say "I did it." And when Mrs. Kasumi politely asked if anyone wanted to share their story, she felt Sasuke's hand slip into hers, a silent push, to which she nodded. _Our son will not be forgotten_ , she promised to him and herself before getting up.

And so, for the first time, she spoke.

.

.

.

* * *

 **Tayyabalaraib.**


End file.
